Respirent in tranquillo tempestatem equitare
by magicmultifandom
Summary: It was a seven year stay in Azkaban before Sirius Black was released. With the help of Amelia Bones and Remus Lupin he took his Godson away, to France, where Dumbledore couldn't interfere. He only went back because he didn't trust them with Harry, nor did he trust the Triwizard Tournament to be anything other than a dangerous mess.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : So this might be slow on updates because I have exams coming so pre-warning right there. Also things happen differently which is why the Triwizard Tournament doesn't take place until Harry is 16 in this one. **

**Warning: Possible grammar mistakes and swearing below**

**Disclaimer: All rights go to J.K Rowling**

He remembered it all so clearly, that horrible night. Right down to the ringing of his own laughter echoing like the madness they called him out to be. He was too frightened to touch himself, to feel the thick knotted hair beneath his fingers, something he once prided himself on, to feel the dirt smudged across his face all gritty slipping beneath his nails, to feel himself alive and breathing with each rise and fall of his chest when all's he wanted to do was die.

At least if he was dead he wouldn't have to care, he wouldn't have the pain of clinging to that last tangible piece of innocence, reminding himself _every day_ that he didn't kill them.

Sirius Black was hardly recognisable as the handsome, carefree young man newly graduated, in that crisp suit at his brother's wedding, the man he was supposed to have betrayed.

'It was stupid naivety', that bitter thought would always arrive on schedule as those creatures crept down the corridor, black cloaks sweeping the dust on the stone floors, shadows within the darkness. 'Stupid naivety that I could protect them when I could barely protect myself, and I failed to protect Regulus.'

But he clung to words like that, no matter how bitter, no matter how much he hated them as they repeated over and over in his head, he clung to them. They were his anchor in the madness, those simple thoughts that kept him sane. He knew he couldn't protect them. He knew he was innocent. He knew he had a Godson out there, somewhere.

The small things the Dementor's couldn't suck out of him as he pressed his back against the stone, inching further and further away as they sidled closer and closer, and they couldn't take it away because he wasn't happy about it.

"Tick Tock, Tick Tock"

Why was it always her?

"Come on. Come on. Tick Tock Tick Tock!"

Her face was pressed through the bars, dark eyes swivelling to try and catch a glimpse of him, face morphed into a frenzy of excitement, something of which was rather frightening. She always said the same thing, ever since he arrived; alls she ever told him was Tick Bloody Tock.

"Blackkkk" It was a whine this time, rather pitiful but he lacked the energy to move his chapped lips, slumped against the wall.

"Tick Tock!"

It was spoken with more force now, she wanted him to answer, but his eyes were slipping shut. There was rare chance to sleep in these hallowed cells, Dementor's crawling in the night just waiting for a glimpse of happiness in someone's dreams ready to pounce, and in the day the only time there was little noise was when their meals were delivered.

It was a small wooden bowl pushed underneath the bars, the creaking of the steel the only sign anything was coming and given no chance to even think about escaping before they were slammed shut again. It hurts his ears. It was too loud. The wardens just laughed the first time he mentioned it, within the first few months of his 'stay' and made sure to do it even harder next time. No baby nor child nor adult would want to eat the gruel they are served with, and in fact many didn't, there had been at least seven deaths from malnutrition and starvation and he was sure more were to come.

It was always cold, except Christmas day in which the heat didn't seem to make it taste any better but it was the only way they found any recollection of date's.

The slop, for there really was no better word that he could bring himself to think of, was some sort of mix-up between old porridge, spoiled dairy he assumed was cream and an aftertaste of semolina.

They were given no spoons or any sort of instrument, instead they had to gulp it down tipping the bowl to their lips, it was a wonder nobody had food poisoning. There were lumps, thick, greyish lumps that had the tendency to burst like a bubble inside your mouth and that was enough to make anyone gag. A part of him wished never to know what was really in that for fear it would be worse than what he'd guessed.

"Tickity Tock Tock" It was almost a whisper now, just loud enough for him to hear but more solemn, more sad than he'd heard before. She was always in a chaotic twit of mad, excited or giggling, a part of him wondered if she were related to Bella in any way, the bitch could be heard screaming even over the howling winds and the waves that threatened to crumble them all, drown them in the darkest parts of the ocean never to see light again.

"R-Rosier"

The word scratched at his throat burning the flesh and for a moment he tasted blood, that coppery liquid that forever seemed to coat his wrists whether from his imagination o the chains that bound too tight around his arms he lacked the energy to find out.

Evan Rosier died, abandoning his sister to her fate. Word had it she was already mad before they threw her in prison, but then, nobody in here was sane enough to be reliable. Even himself.

His knuckles were forever scabbing, fits of rage that grew too strong to keep inside, exploding his anger on to the stone walls around him. And of course the Wardens just sneered.

"Tick," There was a pause and for a second something akin to alarm rose in his chest. It had been a long time since he had felt anything over than a sinking feeling of depression, yet everyone now and again an emotion would burst up inside of him like a little spark, leaving him to wonder if it was possible to feel emotion if he ever found a way out, or if the truth was ever revealed. "Tock"

And the emotion was gone, swirling into nothing in the pit of his stomach where only a knowing sensation now so faint it was barley there to remind him of the hunger that never seemed to leave, no matter whether he forced that _stuff_ down his throat.

She was insane, and he was on his way to joining her, so at this point he didn't care what she had done. There had always been a part of his mind in those fleeting moments where his head was clear and steady enough to think, that separated him from the others. He knew he was innocent, that he hadn't done the crime he was accused of, there was a part of him that still looked down upon them and yet he was bundled in tight with the same bitter regret many felt for completely different reasons. For something that may have been a year, but it could have been two, he refused to speak to anyone, especially those that _had_ murdered. And then sometime after that Rosier started talking. Well, she had always been talking but then he started listening. She babbled on and on and sometimes she made so much sense that it hurt and he wondered if she really was made, yet other times you couldn't string a sentence from the words that poured from her mouth.

For awhile he just sat a listened when he could, when he learnt to block out the rest of them. And then one day, he spoke back.

There had been silence, silence for the first time in what seemed like forever from the cell beside his own and it went on for – a day? Maybe, maybe not, he couldn't tell you. And then finally, she replied. _"Tick Tock"_

There were days where that's all she would say, and there were days wherein something akin to an actual conversation was made between them.

"Cell 1890. Prisoner ᛈᛉ-390. Black Orion, Sirius"

It was the deep booming voice of a Warden he never learnt the name of that echoed his own through the stone corridor and a crunch echoed, loud and clear followed by the unmistakable clang that was the bars of his cell rising. For once there was silence among every corner of Azkaban, every prisoner no matter how mad, waiting to hear what was to happen to the infamous both inside and out, Sirius Black.

The light was painful, blindingly so that his hands few up in an awkward tangle to protect his face, the chains cutting into his skin and a drip of hot blood ran down his forearm, dripping from his elbow through a tear in the fabric of his clothing.

The light was dimmed ever so slightly; just enough that he could crack open his eyes somewhat and make out the blurry figures standing before him. Eight Aurors, most he had yet to have met and a couple he knew well from his own days in training, their faces stone cold and eyes glaring as though he had done them a personal crime.

"Black. Due to new evidence brought forwards by one Remus John Lupin we are taking you into custody is that understood?" 

It was the unmistakable voice, clear and sharp, of Amelia Bones.

"Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes" He rasped slowly, his body slowly adjusting to it all, his mind in tatters in his head, despite his words not really understanding at all.

"Reeves, Johnson. Get him up"

He stiffened; twin sets of heavy boots thudded across the cell and hands wrapped around his unwilling muscles, the shackles tied around his wrists and ankles jangling like an echo.

"_Tick"_

They fell off his legs, the chains, giving him ability to walk even if his legs would not cooperate, and the two Aurors took most of his weight roughly, limbs shaking violently as he tried to get them to work.

His knees buckled as his body was hauled off the platform, the cells were raised above the corridor floor for safety reasons, not that Sirius ever figured out what they were.

She stared at him with an unreadable expression, something he wished he could decipher liked he used to, but there was nothing, just like his eyes, there was nothing in them. He was hollow, a shell of a man he once was.

"_Tock" _

One faint final whisper and suddenly he understood. She knew, somehow she knew he would get out, every "Tick Tock" was like a small reminder that one day he would be free, or at least inspire hope if nothing more. After all there was nothing else in his hell hole.

And he whispered it, his head twisted to the left slightly in hope it would carry, and for the first time he spoke her first name.

"_Edeline"_

Her eyes were bright with what could have been tears or just a trick of the light still lit at the tip of Amelia Bones' wand as she stared at him, her dirty hands clasped around the greasy bars of her cell and face peeking through the netted hair, she looked more like a child in that moment than ever a convict.

"_Sirius"_

"Back in your cell!" A gruff voice interrupted as his feet were dragged backwards, not conforming to his brain trying avidly to get them working. A soft whimper left her lips as a baton struck her in the stomach, shoved through the bars by one of the Aurors and he jerked, his face lighting up in a furious anger.

That was all they needed, all the signal they cared for and their arms twisted his, kicking his lifeless legs from beneath him and pushing him to the floor as he struggled, eyes wide

"Don't," It wasn't loud but they all heard even as his body was crushed against the mud coated stone "Don't touch her" His voice grew fainter until his skull connected with the stone, shutting him up for good.

He was a limp rag doll pressed into the floor, and Amelia Bones watched this all occur with not the anger and hatred that her colleagues spared for him, but a calculated suspicion.

No man nor women in Azkaban would have cared for another unless they were connected, through blood or vows, enough to possibly hinder a trial like that, she knew from experience. Yet, here he was, a convicted murderer, caring for the health of a mad women.

Why the _fuck_ wasn't Sirius Black given a trial?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: There will be some swearing in this. I hope its okay. **

**Harry will come into it, but not for say another chapter, maybe two**

**And of course all rights go to JK**

* * *

The steady dull ache in his head is the first things that hit his mind like a steam train, when his eyes slowly crack open to meet not the darkened shadowy ceiling of his cell but instead the pale grey walls where light filtered from a small window high above his head, bars shielding any attempt at escape – not that one could fit through.

It takes a long moment to adjust and he moves with care. His grazed knuckles throb as they straighten on the fabric below him and an involuntary wince rushed through his body. He's stiff, every muscles contracting as he rose up and his feet touched the stone hesitantly.

It was small, much smaller than his cell in Azkaban ever was, and beneath him lay a mattress lifted from the floor by a metal frame. That was all, and with no privacy, the only thing separating him and the corridor from potential escape was the thick iron bars skewering his view.

Grey eyes blinked slowly and his head felt heavy, raising his hands to his thumping forehead he realised the extra weight was a bandaged wrapped around his skull and a sharp stabbing alerted him of the memory from the night before.

_Remus._

Remus was the reason for this trial, his Remus, the werewolf that accepted everybody but himself, the man he had betrayed in so many different ways. Remus John Lupin.

There was a soft prickle at the back of his eyes, and he leaned forwards pressed his lips to his knuckles. One might have thought it was a prayer, but no, he was simply trying to keep the tears at bay, the ones that stung against the darkness of his eyelids, the ones that had not fallen even after his body was tossed inside that cell and left to rot.

"Black."

Her voice broke through his mental tirade, and slowly he lifted his head, eyes still glossy with salty water but face as collected as his youth. Amelia watched him from behind the bars that separated them, one hand clasped around a large paper file and the other, the other twitching by her side, half ready to reach out and give some source of comfort to this convicted – or not so convicted – murderer. Orange locks were tied into a bun, her manacle firmly upon her head and thin lips glued into a frown. Behind her, two men, one Sirius recognised and one he did not.

"The Minister wishes to have this trial over as soon as possible, I believe he is quite sure of the outcome." She spoke with an odd distaste, and a twinge of something caressed his heart, but he pushed it away.

"And against Cornelius's better judgement I'm sure, we are allowed to administer a powerful truth serum given your permission."

She said calmly, coolly, and Sirius gave a soft nod in response, his dark matted curls bouncing slightly. There was a sharp ring from along the corridor and he flinched slightly, hand jerking halfway to his face before falling limply back on the bed, if it could be called that. The noise it seemed had released the bars to his cell, and he watched with a sense of familiarity as they sunk into the floor, leaving only a fine line where they had once been.

"Shacklebolt, Reeves, bring him out"

Reeves, he recognised the name yet not the face, one of the Aurors from the previous night and he unconsciously winced, as the larger man clasped his bicep stiffly. He had dirty blonde hair and more muscle than a normal Auror, Moody preferred stealth over strength, with these dark blue eyes swirling with too many emotions fro Sirius to pin down one. He was pulled from the bed, his legs once again refusing to conform to his mental orders and a pair of cold handcuffs were tossed upon his wrists, rubbing against the already irritated flesh.

Sirius was guided almost blindly down the dimly lit corridor, his mind still struggling with his legs until a thick metal door was brought open with a resounding creak and a blinding light crashed against his eyes.

The world around him span dangerously, spots blinking within his vision and his legs shook beneath his weight, until the air was pushed from beneath him and his back connected with a chair, bringing him slowly back to life. Sirius swallowed painfully, his throat scraping with every breath and deep breaths inhaled through his nose.

"Today the Wizengmot is joined for the Trial of Sirius Orion Black for the Murder of Lily and James Potter, how do you plead?"

The voice of Cornelius Fudge – Acting Prime Minister, for Crouch Senior was under review - echoed across the chamber and lull settled from the raucous of whispers now lost to a lingering tension.

"_How do you plead?" _

Fudge pressed, and Sirius finally blinked his eyes open, staring up to the marble seats that scattered a full house of members and reporters, every flash of the camera sending a dull thud through his head.

"Not Guilty"

It came out as a soft rasp, something they almost didn't catch as Amelia took her place at the stand and a flurry of outraged whispers spoke out. Fudge opened his mouth, but Amelia beat him to it, her eyes only upon Sirius.

"From the records of the date October 31st 1981, you were never given a trial."

It was not a question but a statement, and all eyes swivelled to Fudge, who looked a rather amusing mix of angry, flustered and a pretty good impression of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Black was pretty obviously a murderer Madam Bones, Crouch simply did what any Minister would do"

There was another flurry of murmurs from the reporters.

"It's.." Sirius murdered slowly, forcing his lips to move "It's Lord Black, to you"

An angry blush seeped on to Fudge's cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in anger. Technically, Sirius wasn't wrong, and Fudge knew it, after all, with his brother dead and not legally counted as disowned, Sirius was the Head of the Family.

"Lord Black," the title was spat with venom, the sense a sour taste lingered in the man's mouth and for a single second his lips twitched upwards in some screwed form of satisfaction. But then it was gone, left only with an empty nothing in the pit of his stomach. "Do you give permission for the administration of Veritaserum?"

"Yes"

"Shacklebolt" Fudge ordered with a nod, and he swept forwards, dark skin shinning somewhat int he light and a small clear vial clutched in his grip.

"I heard Remus Lupin was the reason for my trial" He spoke clearly for the first time, no rasp in his voice, staring Fudge straight in the eye.

"That is correct" Amelia answered when it became apparent the Minister would not.

"Then why is he not in here?"

There was a silent pause for a moment wherein everybody digested his words, and shared these knowing awkward glances. Sirius gained a deep rooted feeling of dread, dread that they knew something.

"Mr Lupin is..a Werewolf"

Whatever he was expecting, it hadn't been that, nor was it the worried glances between the different members. Had they expected him to panic? To lash out? Merlin he didn't realise these people were so stupid.

A laugh bubbled up from his chest, a deep bark that took many by surprise and he rolled his eyes, shaking his scraggy mane of hair.

"You mean to tell me" He chuckled "Remus Lupin isn't allowed into a courtroom because he is a werewolf? Dear Merlin what were you expecting? I've known that man for a good portion of my life, did you really think I didn't know? Speaking of which, what's the time and date?"

They watched him all with flabbergasted expressions, a random reporter finally blurted out the answer, mustering enough sense to form any words together.

"9am, June 4th 1988"

Seven _fucking_ years in that hell.

"And could someone enlighten me – Is tonight a Full Moon?"

He could've sworn he saw Kingsley smirk slightly, or the upward twitch of Amelia's lips, as a chorus of "no" echoed distantly.

"Then what is your problem? He is no danger to any of you, I mean who really cares if he is a werewolf? He's not even able to transform today! You're a bunch of prej-"

"Enough Black!" Fudge cut him off with a sharp exclamation and everything was silent, watching the heavy breaths escape from the flushed man, his signature bowler hat almost toppling from his head.

"Minister I suggest you calm yourself so I can continue the investigation" Amelia stated sharply and made a gesture towards Kingsley, leaving him spluttering to himself.

Sirius took a breath and straightened up from his hunched position, the cuffs around his wrists jangling as the silver links clashed together. Kingsley reached forwards and tipped his head back, rather more gentle than Sirius expected as he opened his moth obligatory and allowed the edge of the vial to be placed against his lips.

The liquid fell into his mouth and for a moment he struggled to swallow, the muscles in his mouth and throat so out of use he was close to choking. The dark skinned man raised his spare hand against Sirius's throat, rubbing it lightly, forcing the serum down. His grey eyes glazed over and his face went limp and dull.

"Name" Amelia began, testing first with three simple questions.

"Sirius Orion Black"

"Age"

"29"

"Date of Birth"

"November 3rd 1959"

"All correct. The serum is working"

Members of the Wizengamot lent forwards in their seats, now very curious to see what would happen; after all there was supposedly more evidence that lead to this very trail. What didn't they know?

"Did you Kill James and Lily Potter?"

"No"

Fudge went rather pale, along with many across the room; if this really was true then an innocent man was in Azkaban for seven years.

"Explain what happened on the Night of October 31st 1981"

He took a deep breath and spoke, letting the words pour from his mouth, the story he was never given a chance to tell and the barrage of pain that came with it.

"There was something wrong that night, obviously it was Halloween but this time it felt different. There was a feeling plaguing me all day and I couldn't shake it. So that night I went to Peter's house to check on him but he wasn't there. I realised something must have happened so I went to James, but I was too late. The house was already destroyed by the time I arrived. I ran inside and he was lying there, just lying there..Staring blankly at the ceiling...He was so cold...So fucking cold and he wouldn't wake up...I shook him so hard but he wouldn't wake up"

A shuddering breath escaped his lips and he closed his eyes, hands trembling in his lap and they finally began to fall. After years of holding them in, they began to fall, sliding down his face like raindrops on glass.

"Lily...Merlin she was just the same, crumpled like a rag doll and Harry...My beautiful godson...He was just sat there, crying, he kept calling for her, calling for his m-mummy.."

A choked sob left his lips, before his glassy eyes filled with rage and he jerked in his seat.

"That, that ASSHOLE BETRAYED THEM! PETTIGREW KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!"

They jumped in surprise, his voice echoing in a tortured yell across the room. Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat, bowing her head in memory of her friends, closing her eyes for a single moment.

"S-so, I went after him and I found him. We spoke, we battled, and he blew up the street. Then he cut off his finger and transformed into his animagus form. He left me behind to take the fall."

His last words came out as a whisper, and his head fell forwards, chin pressed against his chest and hair blocking his face from view.

"A-And what is Mr Pettigrew's animagus form?"

If anyone heard the single stumble in her voice nobody said, they were all trying to collect themselves.

"Rat" He croaked from beneath the curtain of tangled hair, reaching his shaking hands up to his face and rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"One final question. Are you, or have you ever been in allegiance with the Death Eaters?"

"Never"

"Administer the antidote."

The fog in his brain began to clear, but it had never stopped the raw pain that plunged his heart into an icy grasp, glassy eyes did not stop the tears falling and although he had no control, he knew every word he spoke.

"Lord Sirius Orion Black, on this day, by trail in front of a full Wizengamot, you have been found not guilty from all accounts. You will receive compensation and treatment for your horrific stay in Azkaban Prison, and from this moment on you are cleared of all charges"

"Now hang on a moment Amelia-"

"This man has done no crime, he is free to go, or will you send him back to a place he never belonged Minister?" She snapped, carefully pulling the malice from her voice but the bitterness did not leave, as the chains from around his hands clattered to the floor, and with the help of Shacklebolt he rose to his feet.

"Well- I- No- But-"

"Lord Black you are free to leave"

She gave a nod towards the younger man, cutting Fudge off completely from his incessant babbling and picking up the file laid before her and stalking from the room, a face of cold collection and nobody dared stand in her way.

The corridor was quiet as she pushed through the side door, only the figure of Sirius stumbling out, there was yet to bring the horde of reporters after him.

"Lord Black? Could I have another moment of your time? Someone wishes to see you"

He let out a raspy laugh, and for the first time a genuine smile started to spread across his face.

"Please, it's always been Sirius to you"

* * *

He paced, fiddling with the holes in his woollen jumper, watching his thumb slip through the edge of his sleeve. His patchy coat lay discarded upon a chair and his shoes were wearing thin at the edges. Scars littered across his face and arms, scars riddled with pain and agonising screams that would once have kept him hidden alone in the darkness of his own mind for weeks on end.

But no, right now there was something more important, someone more important, and as time dragged on his pacing only grew. He ran a hand through his brown hair, letting the soft locks give a little comfort against the callous flesh upon his hands and the rising heartbeat thumping so loud in his ears.

"Moony?"

Time seemed to freeze, from the dust particles floating in the air to the wand slipping from his grip as a familiar voice penetrated the solid walls that were built up.

"Paddy" It was a soft whisper that left his lips, and slowly his feet turned even though his mind screamed not too. He didn't want to see the hatred within those grey eyes that he loved for so long.

But there wasn't, not a single ounce, in a man dirty and as exhausted and possibly as insane looking as Remus felt, with red-rimmed eyes and shaky legs, yet still the smile growing upon his face lit up the room.

A ray of light from the window glanced upon his face, casting a bruise into sight and the bandage around his head became clearer in the dizzying site of the angel, and his breath caught in his throat.

"Long seven years eh Remus?" The figure croaked again, somewhat raising an eyebrow and casting a cheeky smirk over his own attire. It was a flicker of the old man he once knew, the lover he once knew, and he moved. His feet stumbled forwards, arms ripped from his sides at their own accord and slipping around his frame, pressing his face into the dirty robes that dared taint his former lover, tears stinging in his eyes and the wolf beneath the surface howled, howled for Sirius Black.

"Don't you ever do something so _fucking_ stupid again Sirius Black! I cannot lose you again"

Remus didn't care if he sounded selfish in that moment; the words whispered into his ear, they weren't meant to hurt, and they meant to tell him, tell Sirius. He couldn't lose his only friend, he couldn't loos this man again it hurt too much the first time and he would be damned if he ever let Sirius do something like that again.

"I love you Remus Lupin" It was breathed from his chapped lips, almost as if Sirius hoed he didn't hear, but Remus did, and it was enough as the two men stayed locked in their embrace of forgiveness and love.

"Boy's, I have no desire to break up this reunion, but I have a proposition for you both"

Amelia sighed slightly, and Kingsley stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him as she sat back at her desk, a serious look plastered upon her face.


End file.
